Once inside, I grabbed a tray and moved with the others through the line. Stew. Bread. Something that might’ve been root mash if I squinted hard enough. Not that anyone cared what it tasted like. Everyone was too busy watching Zander.
Dozens of riders congratulated him on his “promotion.” Polite smiles. Stiff nods. Some even clapped his shoulder or offered a toast. And Zander accepted it all with practiced grace, like someone who’d been raised in the shadows of thrones and crowns and knew how to play the game.
But I knew him better than that.
You okay?I asked, pushing the thought gently through our bond.
His response was like flint sparking in the dark.Theron is making me his own personal figurehead.
Yeah,I sighed internally.We figured as much. But we have to play along. There may be some advantages.
Maybe.The word dripped with frustration, but it wasn’t angry, not at me. Just tired.
Finally, he sat beside me at one of the long wooden tables as I took a bite of the questionable mash. Around us, muted conversation buzzed like insects, nervous and thin. Even Riven and Naia were uncharacteristically quiet across from us.
I turned to him and smiled.
Solei sent me a message. She’ll be stopping by the barracks later tonight. Says she has information for us.
He didn’t bother hiding the lift in his brows.I’d complain about palace security, but it appears to be working in our favor.
Zander’s eyes darted toward mine, and for a second, his lips twitched. Just barely.
Let’s hope it’s the kind of information that doesn’t get us all killed.
The walk back toward the barracks was quiet, but it wasn’t a peaceful quiet—it was the kind of hush that came after too many truths had been spilled into the open. Zander walked beside me, the rest of Thrall Squad trailing behind. The sun had dipped, staining the sky in streaks of lavender and blood-orange. It cast Kaelith’s scales in an iridescent glow as she curled on the outer grounds near Hein, both watching us like twin sentinels. As we entered the barracks, they launched into the air.
Teren was the first to break the silence.
“So…” he drawled, tossing a sideways glance at Zander, “should we get you a bunk?”
Zander smirked. “Tempting. But I need to check on Elara tonight. I’ve barely seen her since everything happened.”
He didn’t have to explain further. We all knew what he meant. Theron had little use for his youngest sister—too delicate, too bright-eyed, too kind for the cold court of Warriath.
“She’s lucky to have you,” I murmured.
Zander’s expression faltered, shadows flashing through his eyes. “Theron knows about her heritage, too,” he said quietly. “Of course he does.”
“He doesn’t see her as a threat, though,” Riven said, coming up behind us. “She’s too young. Too sweet.”
“Exactly.” Zander nodded. “He expects her to marry well, form a political bond, maybe produce a few viable riders. That’s all she is to him… potential.”
Ferrula made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. “Marriage treaties are barbaric. Doesn’t matter if you’re a commoner or a noble. Everyone ends up a pawn.”
We all nodded, the weight of shared experience thick between us.
“I hated it,” Zander admitted. “But we didn’t have much of a choice. After the last Blood War, there weren’t enough full-blooded fae to marry into the bloodlines. Nobles had to rely on the remaining power carriers to ensure magic stayed strong in the blood. It became… duty.”
I glanced over at him, my voice hushed. “Except your father. He was full fae. But no one knew.”
“No,” Zander agreed, and there was something distant in his tone, like he was seeing all the ways that secret had warped everything. “If they had known about Alahathrial, the entire system might’ve collapsed. Or at the very least, been rewritten.”
“Too late for that now,” Jax said from behind, ever the realist. “We’ve got a prince who wants to be king, a princess no one values, and a clutch of dragons who could burn this whole damn kingdom down if they felt like it.”
“And we’re somehow the ones holding it together,” Tae added with a crooked grin.
Zander glanced at me again, something soft and unreadable in his gaze. “Maybe that’s why we were chosen.”
